Shared Love
by Kaotic Silence
Summary: Harry learns a secret on the eve of his coming nuptuals and finds out something he never knew about his new bride.


Title:Shared Love

Author: Kaotic Silence

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy and ?

Rating: NC-17

Warnings:AU non magic...Very non canon

Disclaimer: I don't know the cast of HP. If I did, I wouldn't be writing these stories, I'd be watching them in action. I'm poor. Don't sue me.

Summary: Harry learns a secret on the eve of his coming nuptuals and finds out something he never knew about his new bride.

**Shared Love**

"I can't believe it... only three more days. I feel like I should go screw a bunch of people." And a chuckle.

"Right, Mr.Whipped," I say sarcastically. Another laugh.

"I really think I should. What do you think?" he asks, pulling black slacks up his legs and fastening them quickly. He shouldn't ask me. I have to lie. What choice do I have? Because if I told him... told the truth...

"Why would you wanna do that anyway? Sleep with a bunch of people you didn't know?" I divert his attention.

"Not people I didn't know, Malfoy."

"People you know then? Like who?"

"Certain people. All you guys, maybe," he jokes. Is it a joke? He slips on a jacket.

"What? Us?" I squeak. Too excited. Trying to hold that back.

"Why not?" he laughs. And I honestly can't tell if he's kidding now.

"Because we're guys," I point out. He rolls his eyes, tossing off the jacket and dropping his pants, stepping out of them. I have to force my eyes on his face. Not that I don't want to look at his face. But my brain would rather engross itself in another thing; in a slight tight stretch of ribbed cotton boxer-briefs.

"Maybe that's something I should experience before I can't," he tells me. "Was that last one awful or what?" he asks, kicking at the crumpled suit on the floor.

"Is that why you made me come in here?" I glare playfully, leaning forward on the small bench.

"To help me pick out a suit? Yeah," he states, smiling. Reaching for another pair of pants.

"No, I meant to screw me," I tease. I laugh a little, sweet giggles twisting into the air. He's serious now, adjusting a tie. Pulling away from the mirror to close me into the corner with the near-nakedness of his body.

"What do you think?" he hisses, emphasizing the word think by tightening his tie. My mouth is dry, my tongue heavy and slow.

"I - " I stutter, voice wavering.

"I'm teasing you," he admits, leaning down to look me in the eye, poking my nose with his finger. He pulls at the tie, loosening the knot. The noose. He' stringing himself up. Killing everything in my heart.

"Shouldn't Ron be here with you? He is your best man," I say offhandedly. A little bitter.

"He's not my best friend though," Harry corrects me. I suppress the joy bubbling up from my stupid, naive heart.

"Well, he's still your best man."

"No one looks better in a suit than you. Ron doesn't know the value of a good suit."

"Hermione doesn't like my taste in clothes. She's made that obvious."

"She just doesn't know what to do with herself when she's so attracted to such a good-looking guy."

"Then why is she marrying you?"

"I asked her to," he says after a moment, admiring himself in the mirror. I admire with him, because if he catches me I have a good excuse for once. "How are these?"

"Nice."

"Draco, come on. Do they look good?"

"Yeah." My answer is short. He looks fucking fantastic. I'm getting hot, watching him strip and cover himself. Like a Goddamn strip tease. He's pulling his jeans on, his jeans sexy as hell too. I want him. I shift on the bench, easing the hardness into a more comfortable position. Tugging my shirt down to cover my big secret. Not that I'm saying it's big.

"Boy's night out!"

"Are you inviting all the boys?"

"Yeah. Bachelor party."

"Maybe you can take care of all that screwing tonight."

"We'll see," he replies shyly. The limo smells like new leather. My cock is burning hot inside my jeans. Oh no, Harry. Don't look at me. Don't... don't...

"Why are you cringing?" I swallow.

"Let's have a party!"

"Don't start! Just don't!"

"Would you prefer I sang Harry wants to screw all the Boys?"

"Draco, you sing that at my bachelor party and I'll kill you."

"Where's the stripper?"

"Well, I called Luna, but she was all booked up for tonight."

"Malfoy" all the Weasley boys shout

"Damn, must be genetic. You boys do not have a sense of humor."

"So, what the hell are we doing here? No stripper? There'd better be a bar."

"Not to worry Fred. We got that."

"Let's get to drinkin'!" George shouts.

I had a lot to drink. A lot. I had to. Harry would be married in a few days. And it made me sick. Physically ill. So I had to wash it down, the sickness eating me inside. I was drinking something the twins had made. Something that should have been strong, if I hadn't had the three before it.

"Hey." His voice sweeter than the liquid I licked from my lips.

"Hey."

"You doin' all right?"

"Yeah." He sits down next to me, patting my thigh.

"I'm getting a little crowded in here - wanna go to my bedroom?" I swallow hard, glancing at him nervously.

"Um..."

"To talk," he clarifies. I smile slowly, following him into the darkness and sealing us in.

"I'm gonna leave the light off, is that cool? It's easier to be candid - in the dark." I nod, realizing he can't see me.

"Yeah, fine," I grumble. I could hear the springs of the mattress as he settled on the bed. The bed. I imagine what those springs would sound like as I fucked him - fucked him into the mattress.

"Sit," he offers. I can gear his broad palm patting the mattress, see his silhouette in the moonlit room. I cross, cautiously sitting. He scoots over,  
closing the space between us. His thigh pressing against mine.

"Having a good time?"

"Yeah, the twins are keeping me goin'," I tell him.

"It's kinda scary," he says suddenly.

"What, the Weasley's?" I ask, smiling into the night. He chuckles.

"No, no. That I'll be married in two days."

"Two? I thought it was three!" I squeak.

"Two now," he corrects me, guiding my vision to the red glowing numbers on the alarm clock.

"Oh," I sulk, sinking lower.

"You gonna miss me, when I'm married and at home with my wife?" he teases. I can hear the smile on his lips.

"More than you know," I groan. Realizing what I'd said. Biting down on my deceiving tongue.

"What does that mean?" he asks. Drunk. He is drunk. And maybe I should say it. Right now. Because maybe he won't remember. Or maybe if he does,  
I can say I was drunk.

"Nothing." Good, Malfoy. Real smart. Maybe if I ever want to fuck Potter, I should grow some balls first.

"Nothing?"

"You're my best friend, you know..." Excuses. All my life. At least since I met him and felt that first rush of burning hot blood swelling in my groin.

"I'm a little scared. A lot scared. Having a wife - one person for the rest of my life."

"That's what you wanted, wasn't it?" I snap bitterly. The drink that the twins had given me boiling in my stomach, like flames licking up inside.

"Are you mad at me?" His voice soft, frightened.

"Draco"

"Please, don't be mad. Nothing is going to change. We'll still be best friends. Always, Dray Always." And he was wrapping around me, holding me. I wanted to push away. Wanted to be free of him.

I stood suddenly, shaking out of his arms. And he stood quickly, panicked. Pulling me in again. His body against mine. And he found out.

"Draco? Uh..." And he was sliding away, blushing into blackness. I didn't speak. What could I say? "You - uh - you're-"

"Yeah." What else could I do, I couldn't deny it.

"Why? I mean, you're so... hard." I turn my head away, shame tugging on my heart.

"I'm not... not really," I stutter.

"No, you are. I could feel-"

"Look, it's no big deal. Why are you talking about it?" I growl. He takes another step back.

"It's not-"

"No." I am angry. At myself and my stupid cock and Harry for pressing all over me like a slut.

"Do you want-"

"Nothing," I interrupt, going for the door. And his hand catches tight on my wrist. I turn, my inertia bringing my back to the door with a thump. And his lips are on mine and his hand covering the length through denim. And then it was over. I bite my lip. God, I'm gonna cum. Cum all over myself from a little touch. I feel it. I'm too excited - all these years of wanting and dreaming and jerking off to the thought. I feel wetness, hotness and swallow a moan. I am twelve. I am a virgin. But none of that is true.

"Sorry," is Harry's response as he grazes past me through the door. And it's sticky on my thighs. So I wash myself and my clothes in the sink of the bathroom attached to the bedroom. And I slip on Harry's jeans clumsily, stealing them out of a drawer. I stumble, crashing into the bed and dropping to the floor. Alcohol closing my eyes and pushing me to sleep.

"Hey, you all right? You want some water?"

"What?"

"It's late, kiddo. Wanna at least move to the bed?"

"Oh God."

"Are you gonna be sick?"

"No. No. I need to... to get to the bed." Harry bends down, easing me to my feet. My head is spinning. And I'm going down, down onto the mattress.  
He pulls a blanket up over me. Soft velvet against my sticky, clammy skin.

"How long was I on the floor?"

"A while. God, you threw 'em back last night."

"Did I do anything stupid?" He closes his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. Moving, shifting from the change in weight.

"No, you didn't. But I did." He sighs. "Why are your pants in my shower?"

"I spilled my drink," I lie.

"Two days-"

"What was the stupid thing you did?" I ask suddenly.

"Huh?"

"What did you do?" I repeat, my voice low and evil.

"You know-"

"You groped me. You felt me up," I accuse. He blushes.

"Draco, I was drunk. I'm sorry," he apologizes, head lowered.

"Why?"

"I was drunk-"

"So was I, you didn't see me grabbing Ron's dick."

"You were - you wanted it."

"So now you know what I want."

"You were so... Draco - you were..."

"So what?"

"You know."

"No, I don't."

"You - you..."

"I was hard, Harry. Horny. Is that it?" I challenge. Voice like a purr.

"Yeah." He forces the word.

"So you assumed it was because of you?" I ask. He nods, turning away. And he was quiet. And I was quiet. I had gone this far - what did I think I was doing?

"I'm not a slut," I tell him, my voice calm and even.

He nods. "I know you're not, Draco. I know that."

"Do you?" He glances at me.

"Are you?"

"Harry!"

"What?"

"You just asked me if I was a slut!"

"Well-"

"Do you want me to be?"

"Oh my Christ-"

"Do you?"

"I can't answer that. No - no, I don't." He was serious.

"Harry-"

"Stop! All right, things happened last night. Things that shouldn't have. Don't let this ruin our friendship."

"I wasn't planning on it - of course, I don't know what you had in mind." He glares at me. Angry at first, but dissolving into a smile.

"This is stupid," he states, starting to laugh. And I laugh. Because it's easier than crying. No, not easier. Crying was about to come on naturally. But it was the only thing I could do.

He calls me. Calls me the night before. Hermione is staying with her mother to get ready tomorrow. And he calls me.

"Hello?"

"Draco- hi."

"Hi. What's up?"

"Can you come over? Mione's at her mom's and I'm just - uh, God. I got the jitters. Please?"

"Call Ron."

"Okay, you're bitter. The best man thing, huh? Ron and I nearly came from the same womb... doesn't that count for something?" He's joking, laughing .

"All right. Fine. I'll be there soon."

I'm staying in a hotel. We are in London for the wedding. I don't feel like taking a slow, nauseating ride in the limo. Or being followed by a Weasley.  
So I pull on a soft, cotton, hooded sweatshirt, drawing the hood around my face. I slip past everyone. It's raining. But I want to walk because I'll have time to think. Practice restraining myself.

I'm drenched when I get there. I brought my hood down, trying to wash tears down my face, hide them. My hair is stuck to my head in blonde clumps. I knock and he pulls open the door, a smile warming the cold of the outside world. I enter the house.

"Did you walk?" he asks, watching me smooth back my hair.

"Yeah, I needed fresh air," I tell him. And I'm against the wall, hard hard sweet hardness pushing into my hip. Lips on me, tongue licking rain off my jaw.

"What the-"

"Shhhh, just let me. Please, please, oh God," and he's moaning and whimpering, rubbing frantically against me.

"Harry, Jesus! What the fuck?"

"Please, oh, oh Draco."

"Harry you gotta stop-"

"Can't... God, oh-oh..."

"What the fuck?!" I yell, pushing him back. Wounded, rejected eyes.

"What?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I demand.

"Let me," he begs.

"Let you what?"

"God, Draco, please?"

"Fuck this! And fuck you! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I take large strides to the door, pulling the knob and crossing out of the house, into the rain. I'm swiftly escaping into the night.

"Draco!" His voice, desperately screaming my name into the night echo. I slow down, hands shoved in my pockets. And stopped. Rain urging tears down and down.

"Come back," he says, steady and in control. I don't turn. "Please." I won't. And he's near me too soon.

"Not a slut, huh?" I growl, tension and anger and promise. Because he might want me.

"No, you're not. It's not about that," he explains.

"What, then?"

"About us."

"What about us? We're nothing."

"I want you."

"What?"

"Tomorrow I'll be married. For the rest of my life. I have to - one last time. I want it to be you," he says slowly.

"Why me?"

"Because you were right. I don't want some random person. It's not like I want to hurt her. I just need this. And I've never - never been with a guy.  
It's perfect. And I know you want me."

"What? I want you?" I squeal.

"After last night, after I felt you - I knew. And I want you."

"Harry-"

"Please. Do this for me." My defenses melt against a sweet boy accent and the smell of sex lingering on his skin. He reaches, takes my hand. Leads me dumbly into the house. Into the bedroom.

I can't stop. Can't stop my hands on his skin. Even if I wanted to. I told them. Begged them to stop. They won't. Or I won't let them. And his lower lip is trapped between his teeth. His eyes closed tight. A light layer of sweat gleaming over his flesh, shining in the soft light of the street lamp outside. And I know what he wants. I know. His movements are desperate,trying so hard to push against me - against anything for the friction.  
Little moans slipping past pink, swollen lips.

"Draco, please," he begs. His lids lifting lazily, tears glistening in the corners of warm, blue eyes. Tears? Is he crying?

"Please, I need it," he repeats, voice low and dripping with pent-up desire. His head is tilted back, throat long and muscles tight. My hand follows down a slick torso, over clenched muscles, easing under an elastic waistband. And the hardness. God, so so hard, so hot. Blood racing, an equal, tight, near-painful hardness. I choke back a cry of desperation. His hips lift subtly, pushing heat into my palm. My fingers curl, cradling. Pulling slowly. Too delicately, too lovingly. He can see right through me, his eyes blazing into me; his hand carefully brushes away the cascade of tears.  
His other hand on mine, stopping it's efforts.

"Why?" he asks, still dabbing at red, swollen eyes.

"It's nothing," I lie, my voice wavering and abnormally high.

"Don't, please. Don't lie," he requests. I move my hand, wanting to divert his attention. He gasps, trying to cut the sound short, betraying the concern he is forcing through a need to release.

"Let me," I say, voice eager.

"No," he moans, his hand still on mine, but now he's guiding it. Urging me.

"Yes," I insist, sex rolling off my tongue. If I tell him, he'll make me stop. If I stop now, I'll live my life regretting my weak heart, regretting the tears that were slipping past the wall I had built.

"Yes," he agrees, tightening my grip and then letting his hand reach eagerly between my thighs. Rubbing lazily through thin cotton. Seeking out wet fabric, cool when he presses it against the sticky slit of my cock. I shiver. He smiles slyly, like the Cheshire cat in the dark. And I feel too young, too close already. And he's relaxed, ready to make it last. I blush into the darkness, aware of my eagerness. And he's aware. A soft, hot hand burning a slow burn over my cheek. Gentle. Finding another salty drop of liquid stinging pain on my cheekbone. Licking it off his finger.

"You're hurting," he tells me, his voice a soft purr. I turn my head from him. He moves from my grasp, sitting slowly.

"Tell me... and don't lie." A sob catches in my throat and I swallow it down, letting a long breath force out from my trembling lips. It's too dark for him to see me fight it.

"I'm - I'm nervous," I stutter. "I've never... with a man..." He chuckles peacefully, suddenly carefree.

"You're afraid it'll hurt, if we - " he explains. I nod enough so that he can see. No, not afraid of physical pain. I have, have before. With someone else. With a man. It hurt then - only at first - then it hurt when it was over. The longing unbearable. I never fuck. Never. Always a bottom boy. I like it. Like being filled. Like taking it. Like cumming early and being easy - a little whore.

"I'll be gentle, Draco, and sweet with you. Have I ever hurt you before?" I shake my head. He doesn't know how much. It hurts right now.

"Lie down," he commands. I crawl up next to him, easing down onto cool sheets. He moves gracefully between my thighs, opening to him automatically. And he's moving down, moving away. Teasing my thighs with his adventurous tongue. Soft there - there - the place it needed to be. And a little ways in. I want to push down deeper - but I have to be naive. And he licks me. So good. It takes all I have not to fall over the edge of ecstasy from this alone.

His body covering me. Warm. And familiar - it shouldn't be familiar. Guiding in, pushing slow. The discomfort, temporary. And he's inside, insanely deep and full. Pressure there - on the treasure spot. And my voice jumps out into the humid blackness. Moving out, a sting of pain, a fear he'll pull out completely. Pushing against the sweetness in me. My cock aching.His head tipped back, eyes slits of darkening blue, flickering like the heart of a flame. Lips curl into an erotic grin. Like a climbing inside, stepping up with his desperate rhythm. And it's hot and wet on my stomach. His eyes wide. My mouth open in a silent scream. Feeling his length snug and swollen in me. He stops. I wonder if he'll start again. I gently rock my hips to encourage him - like he'd forgotten himself. He shakes the shocked expression from his face, slowly starting his maddeningly peaceful rhythm.  
Sweat clinging lightly to him, our bodies slick as they grace each other. My head is dizzy, ears plugged and straining to engulf his jagged breathing. I'm appeased by cumming early - now I can watch him. Focus on his face,locked into a pleasured grimace. His body shakes as he closes in on it, frantic, uneven strokes.

"Draco." His voice a strangled whisper as he peaks inside, thrusting a few last times to prolong the exquisite loss of mind. He falls heavily on me, his sweat dropping on to me. Slippery from the pure extracted sex coating my belly. His hot breaths scorch my ear. His lips adoringly on mine. Tears jump up to his skin.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine." My words traitors, easing him into a lazy hug.

"Wow." And he pulls away, sleep moving over him as he hugs me close again.

He's shaking me. Pulling me from a deep sleep. My eyes flutter open lightly, glazed and unfocused. I rub them lazily, brushing away the sleep from the corners.

"We need to get a move on - we have an appointment in a few hours." His voice is sweet, slow like honey. I smile - warmth in my body radiating out. But it's fading, getting cold. An appointment. A wedding. An unintentional tear leaking rebellion down my cheek.

"What? Draco.." he asks, soothing me, pulling a gentle hand through unruly blonde tufts. I can't speak. My voice is lodged in my throat, burning on the inside. I roll onto my side, having no choice but to let myself go. My body shaking, voice bursting the silence. Deep breaths breaking into the air.

"Draco?" Harry repeats, voice urgent and panicked. "Draco, what happened? Talk to me?" His hands on my arm, trying to ease me into facing him.  
I pull away, out of the bed, to the door.

I throw the door open, the back of my hand swiping across tear-stained cheeks.

I escape down the stairs, leaning weakly against the counter, desperately trying to catch my breath. He's easing up next to me, very cautiously. I turn from him, sighing and blinking over swollen, red eyes. His hand is perched on my shoulder.

"Why?" he asks. I roll my eyes. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Say anything about what?" I grumble, my voice wavering and breaking.

"That you were in love with me."

"I'm not," I snap. My heart jumps into my throat. He knows.

"Draco, please-"

"You will be married in two hours. To Granger. I was just helping you out. I don't feel that way about you," I explain, words clipped and agitated.

"You should have said someth-"

"I'm not!" I yell. "Jesus."

"Okay." He sighs, tone light and breathy. "If you were... you just should have said something." He turns and makes his way to the stairs, steps easy but deliberate.

I choke. Choke back raw pain slipping past my lips. What had he meant? What should I have said?

I need to get ready for the wedding.

I tighten my tie. I hate this tie. I hate the tie and I hate Harry.Fred is watching me, waiting for me to be ready to go.

"I'm not feeling well," I suddenly tell him, sounding like an off-handed comment.

"You're not?" he asks cynically.

"No. Maybe I shouldn't go." He stares at me.

"Bullshit. What's going on?" he accuses.

"I'm gonna puke," I add.

"Good thing you're in this family now, cuz you're one shitty actor," Fred remarks, laughing a little.

"Don't be an asshole!" I snap. His eyes get wide and he smiles.

"Someone's a little pissy," he notes.

"Fuck you!" I yell, putting my hand over my mouth slowly, apologetically. I sink down to the floor.

"What's up Malfoy? Tell me," Fred insists, crossing to me. He takes a place on the floor next to me.

"Nothing to say," I tell him quietly, barely audible.

"Why don't you want to go to the wedding? Harry's your best friend."

"Yeah..."

"I get it. You wanted to be the best man. Look, he would have let you, but Ron's like his brother. He really didn't have a choice."

"Right," I agree. Seemed like a reasonable excuse.

"You're still his best friend, Malfoy. Hermione's not going to change that either."

"Let's go," I say quickly, pulling my jacket on and starting for the door.

That scene from The Graduate - where Dustin Hoffman's character goes after his girl - goes to the wedding, pounding on the glass, screaming her name... which I can't even remember right now. Hey, with Anne Bancroft seducing you, who can remember anything?

I want to reenact it. Want to stop the wedding. What a shitty idea. Did I think because we were together for one night I had any claim over him.? She'd had him too. And he had proposed to her. I wish he didn't look so happy. A permanent smile took residence on his face. She looks stupid - with her blondish hair, bronzed skin - like an overgrown Barbie doll. It's a lie she is so beautiful most say the female version of you.

"I do." Of course you do. You're a slut. You fucked me last night and now her tonight.Fred notices the scowl on my face, the angry pain twisting in me. He leans over to me, whispering in my ear.

"You are the best man." But I wasn't. Wasn't. And it's over. They're dancing and I'm taking advantage of the bar.

"Well, I'm married." Suddenly, that voice - that sweet melody off soft lips.

"Yeah," I say shortly.

"I'm a married man."

"I fuckin' heard you the first time," I growl. He's been watching me with sparkling blue eyes, which are burning out as he glances away at my words.  
His warm smile slips away.

"I wish you could be happy for me."

"I'm sorry. I am happy for you," I reply numbly.

"You lied."

"Yeah."

"I mean about earlier. You are in love with me."

"Whatever, Harry. Whatever you want to think."

"Draco, you should have - "

"Should have what? Told you? What would that change? You would've broken the engagement? Maybe I should have stopped you. Is that what you think? I should have given up my one chance to experience what I wish the rest of my life would be like? What I've wanted..."

"Holy God, Draco - "

"Just shut up. I'm tired of - I'm just tired." I walk away, away from the bar.

I wander half sober down a cement path leading away from the courtyard and out into a small garden. She's here.

"Draco." I hate my name on her lips. something tells me I'd hate Harry's there more.

"Hi Hermione. Congratulations," I mutter, hardly able to make eye contact with her. She moves to me, tilting my head up with her delicate fingers. A sincere smile graces her beautiful face.

"Harry told me you helped with the suit," she says. I nod, ready for her insult. "It looked perfect, thank you."

"Oh, you're - uh - welcome," I stutter. Surprised by her civil attitude.

"I know, Draco."

"Know what?"

"A lot more than you think. I'm not the dumb bitch you take me for. Do you think that Harry would have married me if I was? You know him better than that."

"Okay." I'm dumbfounded. What was she implying?

"I know you two love each other."

"Well, we're best friends."

"You know that's not what I meant. You're in love with each other."

"What? "

"I know, Draco. I don't blame you for loving him. Or him for loving you. I knew since the moment I saw you together - you flirt constantly and hug... always there for each other. Honestly, the whole time Harry and I have been together, I've been expecting it to end. I was sure one day you'd admit to what was there - and I'd be out of the picture. But you never did."

"Oh my Christ."

"Don't hate me. Don't hate him, especially. If you have to hate someone, then hate me. But never do that to Harry. He loves you, Draco. Always has.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask, a little bitter but utterly confused.

"We'll figure something out," she assures me, pulling me into a hug. So tender and honest. I'm crying against her shoulder.

"No one meant to hurt you, honey. I'm sorry it has to hurt anyway," she soothes, smoothing my hair. She pulls away, smiling softly and wiping tears off my face.

"Let's get back, they're probably missing us," she says. Her hand reaches for mine, fingers wrapping around mine. I sigh heavily and we walk toward the throngs of people together.

And I feel stronger with her there. And the look on Harry's face is priceless when he sees us.

"Mrs Potter," he starts, kissing her cheek. She is smiling brightly. Beautiful bride. "I see you found Draco." She nods, squeezing my hand a little. "Wanna dance?" She nods again, turning to me, taking my other hand.

"Call me tonight, we'll talk." I've never talked on the phone with Hermione before. She doesn't want Harry to know... know what we talked about.

"Okay," I agree, smiling slightly. Harry is wrinkling his nose, trying to deduce the situation at hand, when Hermione pulls him to the dance floor.

Why am I actually doing this? Picking up the phone, on the first night of their honeymoon, to interrupt. Because she asked me to. And I'm curious as to what she has in mind. So I call. And Harry answers.

"Hey Potter, can I talk to Mione?" I can hear him breathing into the receiver.

"Why?" he asks, voice mildly hostile. He thinks I told her what happened.

"She asked me to. Can I?" Another pause, and I hear him call for her.

"Hello?"

"It's Draco."

"Draco, hi."

"Hi."

"I want to work something out."

"What do you mean? Mione, you're his wife. What's there to work out?"

"He - he wants to be with you."

"He told you that?"

"No,Draco. He didn't have to. I know it. Where you two... I mean, did you..."

"Yes," I answer her so that she won't have to ask it. She won't have to form the words and wrap her mind around the concept.

"We're on our honeymoon tomorrow. Can I call you when we get back?"

"Sure," I tell her. "Mione, what's this about?"

"About love, Draco. Don't worry. I know what to do. Gotta go, Harry says hi."

"Say hi... for me."

"I'll tell him. Bye." And she hangs up.

I go a week without talking to anyone in the crew. I talk to my mom, but don't really tell her anything. Because she will chastise me. Not for being bi. But for being with a nearly married man. I can't even imagine her approving of that, no matter how much she loves Harry. So I work and eat... and I wait. Wait for her call. I don't even know what it was she was going to tell me, but I am going to wait to hear it. If she wants me to fuck off or... or what else could she want?

It's ringing. And I wait three rings, not wanting to seem as eager or pathetic as I am.

"Hello?"

"Draco... we're back."

"Hi Mione. How was it?"

"Beautiful. We had a great time." I hurt. I don't want them to have a great time. Anywhere. But I'm glad she's happy.

"So..."

"Come over." She says it fast and I think I hear her wrong. She wouldn't say that.

"Excuse me?"

"Come over, Draco."

"Does Harry know-"

"No, just get here soon. I have it all figured out. The door will be unlocked, come to the bedroom when you get here." She has this urgency in her voice.

"Yeah, okay. I'm on my way." And we hang up. I have to go... Just for curiosities sake. What the hell is she doing? Harry doesn't know... But I grab my coat off the chair by the door and swipe my keys, racing to my car and speeding off toward their house.

And I drive to fast and park too crooked in the driveway. I realize my hands are shaking like mad when I get to the door. My mouth is dry and my tongue is heavy. I lift my hand to the knob, caressing it roughly before twisting it quietly and pushing the door into the room. The house is dark. It smells like cinnamon, like heat. I try to walk in a straight path to the bedroom, but my feet are wandering. I can hear muted voices, hear Harry moan. I stop, my heart up in my throat. Not sure if I'm happy to hear him, to hear him turned on... or broken because it's with her. I pull in a deep breath, lightly nudging the door open. He's laying on the bed, wearing blue jeans and no shirt. A slight layer of sweat is glowing on him and his eyes are pressed closed as she pulls manicured nails over the scar. The scar. Her eyes catch mine, but he doesn't see. She motions with her free hand for me to come to her and I walk too slowly I think I might be going backwards. She smiles. Beautiful and white teeth and her hand takes mine and leads it to the skin on his chest. She nods encouragingly as I pull long fingers lightly over heat. His eyes flash open. He knows. He knows.

"Draco!" His words quick, voice high and unnatural. And he looks at Hermione , who smiles.

"I figured it out," she says to me, almost ignoring Harry completely. His eyes dart between us, unsure of what's happened. I shake my head, not understanding her.

"What's..." Harry starts, but can't finish. She's pulling her nails lightly over his nipple and it;s drawing up hard. And I'm getting hard watching.

"Draco, I want you to," she tells me, and suddenly it hits me. She wants me to be withHarry. To make love to Harry. And my eyes flair out wide and I swallow noticeable.

"You... you do?" I stutter. She smiles again, and I understand why he fell in love with her. He's still quiet. She moves off the bed, sitting in a chair nearby. She nods for me to sit with him and I run a hand through his hair.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks through gritted teeth, anger and panic emerging in his growl. I shake my head, not knowing how to answer. He glances to Hermione quickly, and she nods. Back to me, fiery blue. "Stop." he commands, as if this is my idea. So I do.

"Draco, you know you don't have to," she corrects him. He sits up, staring at her.

"Hermione!"

"Harry, lay down," she says, voice slightly strict. And he does, eyes locking with mine. "Go ahead, Draco." I touch his chest gingerly. And his eyes flicker closed and I can see that she's already got him ready because he's hard as a fucking rock in his jeans. His eyes are closed, but he's tense. I lower my fingers to his fly and look to her for permission, which she giggles and gives immediately. She's amused. I pull the button and his eyes open to slits.

"Mione"

"Shhhh, Harry. It's okay." And he relaxes a little. I spread open the material of his jeans and press a palm to his length and he lifts to my touch. But glances nervously at Hermione and settles back. I pull his jeans off his hips and toss them to the floor. I eye his boxers, eyes on her.

"Can I?" I choke, words stuck in my throat.

"Yes, Draco. Anything." I tug his shorts off, eyes glazed as they eye his engorged prick. Oh, oh God. I move to lay by him and want to suck him so bad. And she doesn't seem to mind. So I lick him, and he shudders, and she sighs. And he pushes me away and sits up.

"Hermione, what the hell?" he demands, and I turn away, sitting on the edge of the bed. She's up now, kneeling by his naked form.

"Harry, this is right. This is what it has to be. I've given it a lot of thought-"

"And you want me to do this? To cheat on you, in front of you?"

"You love him," she says.

"I what? Hermione"

"You do. Harry, I thought it all out. I want this to happen. Let him." Harry sighs and she crosses back to her chair. I glance back at him. He doesn't want this. Doesn't want me. She was wrong.

"Draco." A soft whisper. I hesitate, then turn to him. He pulls my arm, pulls me close, wrapping me in a hug. My fully clothed body pressing on his nakedness. He presses his forehead to mine before kissing me, letting the passion seize him and his tongue warm and inviting. He breaks the kiss to settle back on the bed and I move to suck him. I know that's what he wants. And what she wants. And what I want. So I lick his skin. Lick at pure heat. I close my lips around his cock, sucking lightly and letting my tongue cover him. Hermione brushes her hands through my hair. I bob my head on him, and he moans and lifts his hips to fuck into my mouth. And he's getting too close and so am I. I move away, looking into disappointment as I look to him. I strip. Strip naked and he looks me over, eyes jumping to my cock. I lick my lips and I'm back to him, but now my tongue is getting him ready. Ready so that I can make love to him. I lick him, feel him spasm, hear little gasps. And I don't know if they're coming from Harry or Hermione. I press a finger into him. He needs to be ready, I don't want it to hurt. Because I've never fucked before. I already said,  
I'd been fucked but never fucked anyone. Never had the desire to - until right now. With Harry. Because I love him.

I move my body, cover him. And he's kissing my neck and pulling me in roughly because he wants to cum and I want to believe he wants me. I push into him and he gasps, wincing at the pain. And I wanna pull out and leave. But I remember. It's always a little pain at first. So I ease in slow and let him get used to it. And then I move faster, but just a little. I wanna make him scream my name. Need to hear it. He sucks in a deep breath as I bump his prostate. And I'm sweating and he's sweating and pulling against me and mewling so much I think he's gonna faint. Hermione lowers herself on him she rides him as I fuck him she pulls my hands to her breast

I feel it. The porcelain hand trace little patterns into the skin of my back and I turn my head, looking down at her, fucking her husband. And she's warm and inviting and I'm so goddamn close. And I look to him but his eyes are sealed and she pets over my flesh. Soft and gentle. And I push so hard, massaging his prostate until he clenches all over me.

"Ah-oh, Draco, Mione," he calls as he cums. And his face is locked in pleasure and his muscles are tight and clenching on my cock and I can't take it anymore so I fucking cum, cum inside him. And a small cry passes my lips and there's a hot flare and a light flash and I'm slipping and I think I'm falling as I realize her hand is clenched in mine as she cums both our names falling from her lips. And I open my eyes to see them staring at each other. I think she'll hate me. I pull away, quickly moving to dress and leave. This was a mistake. But her hand is around my wrist and I try to shake it off, until I realize I can't because his is also there. And they're pulling me in.

"Stay," she insists, her voice tantalizing. I don't move. And he pulls me in and kisses me.

"I love you," he tells me, holding my hand.

"Me too," she says, kissing my forehead. I sit uneasily. I look back and forth between them. She stands, going to the light switch and flicking it off. She moves back to the darkness of the bed and pushes me to the middle, between her and Harry. She pulls the blankets up over us, leaning over me to kiss Harry hotly and then kisses my cheek as she settles in. And I curl up to them selfishly. She spoons behind me, her silkly skin cool on my naked back. And she's holding his hand, I think. He kisses me, pulling both of us in.

"I love you," he says. To me or to her?

"I love you," she replies. "And you," she adds, poking my belly playfully. I smile slightly into the night. she's suddenly pressing hot lips to mine.

"I love you," he breaths into my ear. I smile wider.

"I love you, Mione. I love you, Harry."

fin...


End file.
